strength of a lion
by nefertari-101
Summary: HPHG,there are a lot of adult themes in this: rape, slash, depraved death eaters, vampirism, alternate universe later on, etc.hermionecentricshe gets captured by de on the horocrux hunt, escapes, they kill volders, and then more adventures actionpacked
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters unless I choose to make one up then you are going to have to ask me before I let you use it, and I ain't going to be making any money from this little plot bunny.

Now children, I must warn you before you even think of reading this little fic, that I am setting the rating as R at least for this chapter, there will also be plenty of other chapters that will be required to have this rating. This chapter has sexual abuse, sexual violence, other forms of squicky behavior, slash (which isn't apart of the sexual depravity parts in case the order of this list offends anyone), H/Hr, SBRL, RW/LL, character death, vampires, love, an AU universe, dead characters walking etc. it is not going to be for the faint hearted. This fic is not going to be all violence and angst and squicky behavior but it is going to be in here so I am giving you a fair warning that it isn't all peaches and cream… fair warning and all that.

Welcome to my depraved imagination and one bitch of a plot bunny that I am currently tying to a stake, all ready for sacrificing to my muse in hope that this story gets finished, that it doesn't end up crap, and for reviews of course; now on with it. I think I would also like a beta if anybody is willing contact me.

DON'T LET THE FIRST PARAGRAPH PUT YOU OFF, IT'S MEANT TO BE SICK BUT IT GETS BETTER SO STICK WITH IT FOR AT LEAST THIS CHAPTER… PLEASE.

He gripped his cock harder, digging his nails into the velvety flesh. How he wished it were her hands, her nails, her teeth. He threw his head back as he came, his juices mixing with his blood. She was such an addictive poison. He had only just come from plundering her sweet innocent and yet, once out the door he was hard again from just the thought of her screams, her hate-filled glares. If there was a cure he didn't want it. This sweet torture should never have to end. He would make sure it wouldn't, he would make sure none of the others touched her, she was his. But first he needed permission from the dark lord.

Dolohov put himself away, and rose gracefully to his feet. As he walked out of his room and down the hallway to where the dark lord was holding council, he put his hand to his feeling the deep scratches she had inflicted on him, and he shivered. He could feel all his injuries rubbing against the course material of his robes, making him half-hard.

The other death eaters were in other camps around the country, all secure, all training facilities for those new recruits. Those who had been captured at the ministry were staying under the same roof with the dark lord, along with several other members of his inner circle, including Snape and Malfoy jnr. Both heralded for the death of Dumbledore and yet punished for their failure to carry out specific orders, as were they all. That however didn't matter anymore, none of it mattered anymore, his prize was his for the keeping if only he could play this right.

He reached the closed double door that hid the darklord away, manned by young Malfoy.

'I request an audience with the dark lord. Tell him it is regarding the prisoner.' The boy looked scared at facing his master. The idiot couldn't even hold a blank face. He was granted his audience after an appropriate wait. A common practice for the Dark lord aimed at disconcerting anybody. Once he entered the room he kept his eyes to the ground, moved to a predetermined spot ten meters in front of the snake like man, where he then bowed at the waist waiting for the dark lord's signal.

'Dolohov, what about the prisoner?' The man added a sibilant hiss to most words. It all added to his image as Slytherin's heir.

He straightened his back, looking into the red eyes of his master. 'My lord, forgive me for taking your time, she has been housed in the fifth cell, between fenrir's and the wild one we retrieved from Azkaban, sir.'

'Very well, you gave her an example of what was to come.' Voldemort's eyes flicked over Dolohov's, taking in the blood stains over his skin, and presumably on his black robes, and the deep scratches starting to scab across his hands, neck and face.

'Of course my lord, and I wanted to thank you for letting me have her.'

'first.'

'pardon, my lord?' he questioned, ducking his head at his forwardness.

The dark lord's eyes narrowed at his minion. 'I allowed you to have the little mudblood first, she will be entertaining the rest during her stay here.' Dolohov gave an almost imperceptible twitch of his head, before he caught himself. The dark lord rose to his feet, and stepped from his 'throne' held on a two stepped dais. Dolohov raised his head to the dark Lord as he held himself above the rest of the world.

'You have an issue with this?' He quietly hissed out. Dangerously.

'No my lord.' Dropping his eyes to the dark lords feet, vaguely noticing the other feet that surrounded the dais. He could only identify Lucius Malfoy by his cane, the others were only black boots covered by black robes.

'You want her for yourself.' It wasn't a question. 'How very selfish of you. Why would I bestow such an honor on one such as yourself? I think you forget yourself Dolohov.' Voldemort raised his wand 'Crucio'

Dolohov's screams echoed through the high vaulted chamber. Several deatheaters had to suppress a shudder as their loins tightened at the sound, others had to suppress an altogether different type of shudder, while outside the door, young Malfoy openly cringed, grabbing at his crotch to stop himself from wetting himself.

The dark Lord lifted the curse after 30 seconds, and couldn't suppress the slightest expression of amusement at the signs of orgasm from Dolohov. Such depravity.

'You shall be in charge of her punishments. She will be passed around throughout those here, you shall make sure she does not die on any of them, even if you have to watch some of those more… enthusiastic. However, anything short of death, blindness, muteness, or permanent harm to her face, or brain damage is admissible. You shall not prevent the others from their turns, you are free to her when there are no others, and you have no other tasks assigned. There is absolutely no margin for error in this task; do you understand?'

'Yes my lord, thank you my lord.' Dolohov bowed again, waiting to be dismissed.

'You may go, loosen the mudblood's tongue, I will wish to speak to her before long.' Voldemort waved his hand in the direction of the door as he turned and made his way back to his throne.

'Of course my lord.' He answered before straightening, turning on his heel and leaving the room. He passed the malfoy boy, a new limp in his step from his punishment. That had gone better than expected. Not as well as hoped, his very blood boiled at the though of sharing what was rightfully his, but he would do as the dark lord commanded. Free will wasn't something highly praised among Voldemort's ranks. Now to 'loosen her tongue.'

Sorry if this is short but I wanted to get something out just read this and when I post next it might be making this chapter longer with the rest that is meant to go with it or a new chapter with the rest of the one in this one, confusing I know, but youll get what I mean soon enough.

Anyway would love for your reviews and constructive criticism, if you wana flame that's fine too as long as it builds up my review count im fine with it.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: welcome to the second chapter, i hope you enjoy this one.

Disclaimer: none of the character belong to me, all JKR and all that.

TO my so far three reviewers, in order of course.

thanx

i know, but so are deatheaters

i will

Severus Snape watched Dolohov's retreating back, that man had spent far to much time under that curse. Or perhaps it was Azkaban, or even a culmination of 25 odd years in the service of a madman. Yes that could drive anyone insane. Looking around at those Deatheaters assembled, some of the oldest and most trusted of Voldemort's ranks, he couldn't identify a sane one among them, the only one that came close was Lucius. One had to be insane to put up with there type of work without a union.

So the little mudblood had been captured, no two guesses as to who that was. There were so many mudbloods, but only one truly fit the description as being 'the mudblood'. He quickly quashed any emotion other than destain for his fellow humans before he turned back to the dark lord.

They were in a meeting discussing the next plans for the war. The dark lord had just started to gloat before he was interrupted by Dolohov. The thin lips already stretched across Voldemort's skeletal features, stretched further in a smirk. He spread his arms out, including those lower then himself in his masterfully evil plan.

'Gentleman I have in my possession the mudblood that could just win me this war. Potter will come for his whore, and I shall kill him.'

The Dark Lord was hardly a stupid man, one could also not call him Naïve, he just seemed to forget that the Potter brat was no longer an eleven year old boy. Although Snape himself hardly saw what the boy would be able to do while they had in their possession what passed for his brain.

The meeting 'council' consisted of twelve members of the inner circle including Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers, along with several other deatheaters giving status reports on their different efforts in the war.

There was the usual praise for the dark lord on how brilliant his plans were. Everybody knew that if something didn't go right then it was their fault, blame could hardly be placed at the hand of the dark lord. The meeting was concluded, everyone having been given their orders. There was the usual mudblood attacks to take place, terror and violence one of the dark lord's main policies. There was also the need to extract all death eater money from gringotts, it was being circulated that the ministry was attempting to cut of all known and suspected deatheater's funds. This in itself would send many more people to the dark lords side. There were potions and spells, curses and hexes to be created or found that would give the deatheaters the edge.

As Snape made his way out of the Dark Lord's presence, his black cloak billowing behid him, stalking alone to his own chambers he thought of his current position in the inner circle. Each inner circle deatheater had their own specialities. While their violent tendencies were a common trait among those chosen, it was their skills in their own personal fields that gained them there position. The dark lord had high expectations for all members, nothing but brilliance was accepted, anything less was greatly punished.

Lucius was an expert in the 'Dark arts', It had been Lucius who had found the means to the Dark Lord's 'immortal' status. He and the Dark Lord were supposedly the only ones who knew the specifics of the Horocruxes. That information had been highly guarded by both parties. Snape had not divulged the information that he himself knew. Lucius also had political knowledge and the gift of foresight in that area. A true Slytherin he had been able to manipulate to ministry of magic for years to first his Lord's and then his own agenda. He also provided a lot of the funds to the cause.

Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black) had been a brilliant tactician, while a fast, resourceful, vicious part of any battle her position was usually by the side of the Dark Lord, standing behind the front lines, helping in the deployment of troops. She had planned out many a successful death eater raid. Although her mind had obviously deteriorated while in Azkaban, the Dark Lord kept her, like his little pet that she was. She was blatantly insane, and her plans and tactics reflected this. They were erratic, crazed, constantly changing, and they worked. They harnessed the element of surprise because no sane person could predict, not even the deatheaters, how she would control her pawns. She was the Dark Lord's favourite, they both shared a lot of the same characteristics; psychotic tendencies, bloodlust, a deep-seated hatred of anything mudblood.

The Lestrange brothers were a team; Roldophus and Rabastan were the creative pair. They were responsible for the deaths of many through newly invented, revamped, newly found and extremely old curses, hexes and other pieces of magic that were likely to make the blood spill, and the death toll rise. They had been vital to Voldemort's reign of terror.

Snape himself was a new member to the inner circle. He had been kept out prior due to his spy status. Voldemort was smart enough to control the amount of information he gave away to someone in such a position. Snape had always been well aware of this fact, as had Dumbledore for that matter. Now however that he had killed Dumbledore himself, that and his potion master status was being rewarded by Voldemort, hence his new found status.

Snape reached his room. It was dank and dark inside, very Spartan in design and furnishing. It held a single bed, a desk with a spindly wooden chair, and a small bathroom off from the right wall. For so long Snape had sought power in its all its forms. Growing up abused he had always sought power in order to gain control. Control of others, of himself, of his inner demons, and of course his long dead father. He had reached the point that so many years ago he though would give him such control. He had finally done it, and all it had taken was twenty odd years of servitude to two masters, the scorn and derision from generations of wizards and witches, a teacher's salary, and the death of one of the greatest wizards of all time.

The mirror above the sink broke as Snape's fist smashed into it, embedding mirror pieces in his flesh, a trail of blood running down the dirty to sink to the drain. How he hated himself, Voldemort, Deatheaters, Harry bloody Potter, 'The golden fucking trio', Dumbledore, and the fucking Blacks (anything associated with that fucking name had only ever brought him pain); Sirius, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Draco; all interlinked, all there to fuck him over.

He was a traitor, regardless if whether he had been forced into it or not, he was a traitor, and without Dumbledore there, he would always be a traitor. He could no longer do anything to help defeat Voldemort, he was now 'officially' on his side. He was fucked, and he knew it.

He looked down at his bloody hand, flexing it, feeling the shards dig in deeper. The blood trails were fascinating. Donovan had said he had the mudblood. They had captured the little know-it-all, and he couldn't do a god-damn thing about it because he was a traitor. A traitor, and a follower, and the boy was right he was a coward. He could have let himself die instead of killing Dumbledore, he could have disregarded the old mans orders, he could've, should've, didn't. and there had always been consequences to his weakness, and now the little bint was going to be tortured and killed because he was to weak, to cowardly to much of a follower to change anything.

Snape banished the pieces of glass with his wand, washing away the blood, and casting a charm to stitch the skin back together. Even the charm had a nefarious background to it. It had been taught to him by the Dark Lord in the art of torture, back when he had been young and faithful. He then made his way to his potions lab, to start on the Dark Lord's list.

AN: righto thats that one done stay tuned for the next chapter, coming to a computer near you


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